


From out of the shadows

by Angelgirl



Category: Dead Zone
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-03
Updated: 2010-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelgirl/pseuds/Angelgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when avoided, the attack on Bruce leaves a lasting mark.  Follows Episode: Shadows; Season 3</p>
            </blockquote>





	From out of the shadows

From out of the shadows  
by Angelgirl

I'll always be there for you man. Always be there...

"Damn it." Johnny snapped his book closed, interrupting the constant repeat running through his head. Leaning back into the chair he rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands. It had finally stopped raining at some point. The tick of the grandfather clock in the quiet house drew his attention and he sighed.

Two am. It wasn't the first sleepless night he'd had since he and Bruce had had their near miss, but the lack was beginning to wear on him. Not that he wasn't getting some sleep.

Johnny had, in fact, taken to sleeping at odd hours during the day. It seemed easier to escape thinking about the experience when in the warm light of day. Darkness made the nightmares more real. Even when he didn't sleep the memories continued; his mind forced to replay the worse parts of the whole ordeal. Though lately... Johnny sighed again. Pulling his cane to him and rising, he slowly walked through and into the kitchen. Normally he wouldn't be forced to use the cane while moving around the house, but with the lack of sleep and his recent reluctance to indulge in the therapeutic massages he wasn't feeling up to his usual level of activity.

A glass of water in hand, Johnny leaned back against the kitchen counter; deep in thought. He didn't like to think too much about what had happened. Almost happened- he reminded himself sharply. He turned, irritated, and slumped over the counter; the glass thumping down onto the hard surface a little too forcefully. It was hard to convince himself that nothing had happened; that all the nightmare images had been prevented. Hard, when he could still remember the heat of blood spilling out over his hands; when he could still hear those final sharp gasps for air. Nearly impossible when he awoke feeling the salty sting of tears in his eyes and the icy hot coil of despair and helplessness.

It wasn't really real, Johnny knew in his head, but in his heart he knew the feel of his friend dying-of Bruce dying- in his arms. He knew the all-consuming sense of loss as something vital was torn away. And-he knew the heady euphoria of having that something back safe and whole.

When Walt had found Bruce and they had shown up at the hospital, where Johnny was getting his latest stitches in, it had been all Johnny could do to stay upright. The sheer relief had made him dizzy. Luckily Bruce and Walt had passed it off as the blood loss and mild shock. That had earned him an extra couple hours of observation, but it was better than the alternative.

Johnny watched the drops of condensation on the glass begin to gather and drip. It was a different mix of emotions that seemed to consume all his thoughts now, however. At first he had been fixated on what might have been; reliving the nightmare again and again. Even so, Bruce had been determined to move beyond the entire episode and insisted on taking Johnny with him. Their discussion by the lake had been only one of many over the past four weeks, but it was the one that seemed to run round his mind the most. Slowly dark memories of that night were being replaced with warmer ones. I'll always be there for you. Gradually thoughts of holding Bruce in his arms took on a very different tone; became less frightening and more ... Johnny broke off his thoughts abruptly. It was useless to waste time thinking about something that was never going to happen. Dangerous to risk the relationship they already had for fantasy possibilities.  
In the past it had been easy to push his feelings into the more appropriate 'best friend' area. There had never been any indication from Bruce that he felt anything more than a general fondness or affection toward Johnny. Although there had been moments when -Johnny smiled deprecatingly. It was easy enough to imagine what he wanted to be there, but that didn't make it so.

Determined to get some sleep before the dawn, Johnny slowly made his way to the bedroom. Moving carefully, he undressed and eased his way in between soft linen sheets. He lay silently for a moment, staring blankly toward the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes and willing himself toward sleep.  
*****  
Bright sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window when Johnny opened his eyes, but that wasn't what had awoken him. As his sleep deprived mind tried to determine exactly what had, the doorbell sounded through the house a second time.

Johnny groaned as he climbed out of bed and grabbed for his clothes. He'd forgotten Bruce was coming by this morning. He'd definitely notice how much trouble Johnny's leg was giving him and with the limited amount of restless sleep he'd gotten Johnny didn't really feel up to PT exercises or a deep muscle massage.

The doorbell chimed again before Johnny made it down the hall and by the time he stepped into the living room Bruce was letting himself in. Despite his exhaustion and the pain in his leg Johnny allowed himself to cherish the worry and concern in Bruce's expression for just a moment. It felt good to be someone else's focus; to feel that connection. And after all, Johnny rationalized, considering what he'd like to share with Bruce it didn't seem too much to indulge in the small luxuries their friendship offered him.

"Hey man, moving kind of slow today, are we?" Bruce's obvious anxiety faded quickly into a teasing smile.

Johnny felt his lips curve slightly. "Some of us just aren't up to your level of enthusiasm this early in the morning, I guess.

"Yeah, well let's see if we can get you going then, old man." Dropping his jacket on the sofa carelessly, Bruce dodged Johnny's teasing swing and led the way into the kitchen.

Johnny slid carefully onto a stool at the island and watched Bruce start the coffee maker. It never failed to amuse him that Bruce was so comfortable in Johnny's kitchen, or anywhere in the house, for that matter. Except the bedroom, a small voice reminded, but Johnny shook it off. His best friend was here, safe and happy, and no unrequited feelings were going to put a damper on their time together.

It took a minute of buzzing noise before Bruce's voice came through. "What? Sorry, Bruce, I didn't catch that."

Bruce leaned against the kitchen island opposite Johnny. "Not important, but you are really zoning out lately. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep, man?" He frowned. "The leg has been bothering you hasn't it?" Johnny was still drawing breath to answer when Bruce went on. "I knew we shouldn't have slacked off on the PT. I-"

For a second time in one morning the doorbell sounded through the house; this time cutting off the mini-rant in progress. Both of them moving toward the door as one, Johnny was glad of the rescue (or simple postponement if he knew Bruce), until he saw the grim expression on Walt's face.

Walt wasted no time coming to the point. "Sorry to come by so early, John, but I've got a situation on my hands."

"I understand, Walt. Bruce and I were just fixing coffee. Care for some?" Johnny offered.

"Actually," Walt managed to somehow come across as both gravely serious and tentative. "I really need you to come now. I can explain everything as we go and," he managed a small smile. "I'll even buy you a coffee on the way."

"Bruce," Johnny began, turning only to find his friend already sliding back into the long jacket he favored.

"Isn't it a given, man?" Bruce smiled, moving to the closet and pulling out Johnny's own leather jacket.

Fatigue and lack of sleep forgotten for the moment and depressing case details still in the future, Johnny smiled as he led the way to the waiting car.

Heading out of town, Walt painted a detailed picture of a young farm family. "The first call came this morning at around six am. Lucas Hendricks is apparently always up early to start with the animals. This morning he and his wife, Betsy, were planning to take their son, Michael, over to his grandparents for the day. When Betsy went in to wake the boy the bed was empty."

Walt slowed the car and pulled into the drive-through. In moments he was passing Styrofoam cups across to Johnny and into the back to Bruce, who sipped his thoughtfully before speaking, "So are they thinking kidnapping or what?"

"No sign of forced entry. The front door was still locked. No strangers reported in the area. Mr. Hendricks says they would have heard the dogs barking if someone had come up to the farm last night, but with the storm he can't be sure." As they passed the town limits sign Walt sighed. "For all the evidence tells us, sometime between 8:30 pm last night and 5:30 am this morning three-year old Michael Hendricks just disappeared from his own bed."

Johnny glanced at his watch, then back to Walt. "It's almost eleven. If there's nothing there what's the delay?"

"We started with search teams", Walt replied. "They've found nothing so far, but they're still out there. We also waited for the dogs to give it a try, but between the boy's scent being everywhere around and the heavy rain last night they can't seem to hold any one trail for long enough to give us a clue."

Johnny nodded. "So you're hoping I might pick up something."

"With as young as he is", Walt confirmed. "We can't afford to wait too long. I really appreciate this, though. I know you're under no obligation to help out."

This time a short laugh came from Bruce, leaning up from the back. Johnny glanced back at him with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow, but Bruce only smiled and shook his head. Turning back to Walt, Johnny's tone was firm. "You know I want to help any way I can, Walt. If these visions might help find a lost child then the least I can do is try."

"Still, it's not like you signed up for this." Walt sounded frustrated, but resigned.

Glad he was willing to let it go, Johnny smiled deprecatingly. "It's not as if I signed up for anything really. But I'm okay with where it's gotten me so far." He couldn't resist a sideways glance at Bruce and found, to his surprise, that Bruce was smiling back at him. Ducking his head, Johnny sipped his coffee and hoped his slight blush wasn't too obvious.

Bruce seemed more energized than usual on the trip back into town. The successful culmination of the search for Michael Hendricks had been adrenaline filled even for the short couple of hours it had lasted for them. He was more boisterous than Walt or Johnny had seen him since what they both silently referred to as 'that night'. Both considered that a good sign and welcomed his enthusiasm with fond bemusement, on Johnny's part, and quiet amusement, on Walt's. Bruce appeared to notice neither.

Johnny, however, was fast fading and it was coming to the attention of both Walt, and Bruce. The effort necessary for the visions had drained him; even without any violent content. Now the restless nights and existing on cat-naps was fast catching up with him. The low hum of the car's engine began to lull him toward a sleepy daze, while the slow lessening of conversation from his friends went unnoticed.

Walt glanced at Johnny with his head nodding toward the passenger window; then exchanged a look with Bruce over his shoulder. Bruce met Walt's eyes and nodded. He had no problem with taking care of their friend. Actually, it's where he preferred to be more often than not.

When they arrived at Johnny's house Walt gave Bruce a hand, waking Johnny enough to walk him into the house and then the sheriff left to complete the multitude of paperwork involved in completing an investigation. Bruce managed to get Johnny's coat off and allowed him to collapse onto the bed; dropping into a deeper sleep before Bruce had even left the room.

Bruce helped himself to a cup of the still hot coffee and settled onto the couch. It was a quiet afternoon and Johnny would probably sleep for a few hours at least. It was probably okay to leave, but sure as he did someone (Dana!) would come by and Johnny would be up ignoring his needs to dance attendance on the princess of the press. Bruce snorted. Can we be a little more sulky? He shook his head dismissively and found his thoughts turning again to the excitement of the mornings search for the Hendricks boy.

When they'd arrived at the small farm just outside town there had been officers and volunteers everywhere. Walt had stopped briefly for any updates; then led the way into the house. Betsy Hendricks was on the sofa, surrounded by relatives and neighbors; her pale, tear-stained face frighteningly blank. Unlike the others, she hadn't even looked up as they passed.

She'd simply continued staring straight ahead; occasionally taking a sip of cold tea from the cup held automatically in trembling hands.

Bruce had followed Johnny and Walt through to the kitchen. Four grim-faced men stood around the small room. Walt had approached the one who'd turned out to be Lucas Hendricks. The sheriff had done the usual spiel of introductions and explanations to a tall man with quiet desperation in his eyes. When Johnny had asked permission to see the boys bedroom

Lucas had stared silently for a moment and then nodded once before turning away. There was complete silence in the kitchen as Walt again led the way deeper into the house. Bruce trailed after Johnny, keeping an eye out for any obstacles and continuing to be concerned at the apparent worsening of his friends' injury.

At the door Walt stood aside, letting Johnny take the lead at his own pace. Bruce stopped, shoulder to shoulder with Walt in the doorway; both watching as Johnny hesitated next to a toddler bed and dresser. Bruce could understand his reluctance.

What he might see was anyone's guess. They didn't even know if the boy was still alive.

Johnny slowly passed his hands over the contents of the dresser; finally picking up a stuffed dog with floppy ears. Bruce watched carefully as Johnny took on the slightly unfocused gaze indicative of a vision. After a brief moment Johnny shook his head briefly and frowned down at the toy. Without thought Bruce took a step forward; resisting reaching out at the last possible moment. It didn't seem to matter, however, as Johnny simply looked up at him as if only vaguely realizing anyone else was there. Walking quicker than Bruce had seen him all day Johnny moved past Bruce and Walt in the doorway and continued down the hall toward the front of the house.

Bruce and the sheriff followed quickly as Johnny stalked through the kitchen and toward the front of the house. The pacing father and his companions looked up as the psychic passed; then turned questioning gazes to Walt. The sheriff only paused a moment to address the men before they all moved to follow. Johnny continued into the living room and stopped. Bruce inhaled, a dozen grim scenarios passing through his head in a matter of moments, but Johnny started to turn slowly, searching gaze passing over people, objects and furniture.

All eyes were on Johnny as, leaning heavily on his cane, he walked once more to the door of the house. Bruce moved up beside him just in time to take the stuffed dog; which Johnny handed back to him as if he expected Bruce to be there all along.

With his now free hand Johnny hesitated briefly, then grasped the doorknob. Time seemed to stand still as he stood. Bruce was more aware than ever of the sheriff at his back, of the other men standing side by side in the doorway to the kitchen, and of the anguished stare of a mother; hands tightly clasped by friends on both sides. No one moved. No one spoke.

Johnny broke free; releasing the doorknob abruptly. He snapped his head up and strode out the door. Bruce was on his heels as he walked; conscious of the crowd of people following behind. He couldn't help but smile at the change in his friend.

While Johnny may have been reluctant in taking on the visions initially, now he showed no such hesitancy. He crossed the porch and stalked down the stairs as quickly as his leg would allow.

Turning right once on the ground, Johnny continued around the house. He stopped short at the corner of the house and moved to kneel down. Luckily, Bruce was there in time to grab his arm and support his weight as the damaged leg gave out in protest of the action. Nodding a quick thank you, Johnny accepted Bruce's help to lean against the side of the farm house.

"Down there," Johnny jerked his chin toward a small opening in the underskirt of the house. "Bruce, can you..."

"I'm on it, man." Bruce was already handing over the stuffed toy and squeezing his way under the house. It was dry and dusty in the crawl space. He'd gone about halfway under the house before he caught sight of a blue and white striped bundle off toward one corner. Blue and white striped; with red rocket ships.  
*****  
There was an expectant, fearful silence as everyone waited. Finally free of the visions Johnny was now aware of the group of people surrounding him. Although the group was comprised of the parents, family and friends, no one approached the space beneath the home; leaving Johnny alone to stare into the darkness.

Long minutes passed before Bruce began to crawl backward out of the crawlspace. Johnny stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane as Bruce stood. Finally Johnny watched as his friend turned toward him, big grin on his face and small child cradled carefully in his arms. Johnny returned the smile and had just enough time to hand the stuffed dog over to the child before he was pushed away by the crowd of family and friends.

Bruce stepped back hastily as the boy was pulled from his arms by a tearful mother. Having seen Johnny being jostled by the crowd, he moved around and to his side as quickly as possible. Side by side they stood watching the happy, tearful reunion.

With another sigh, Bruce settled deeper into the sofa cushions. The scene at the farm afterward had been chaotic and emotional to say the least. Half explanations and half theories were thrown around in an atmosphere of near hysterical joy.

Even now, Bruce had vague impressions of a toddler just big enough to open the front door and check on the dogs during the night. That; combined with a door that locked automatically and a scary night-time storm, was enough to drive a small boy under the house for shelter; where he was found deeply asleep, but unhurt, hours later.

It wasn't often that one of Walt's cases ended so cleanly and even less often that one of Johnny's visions resulted in such a happy ending. For that fact alone Bruce was glad to have been there; not to mention time to spend with Johnny.

He'd noticed the lessening of time spent together lately and knew well what that meant. In the beginning he and Johnny had spent the majority of their time together, but naturally Johnny now needed him less and less. Soon he wouldn't need him around at all. Bruce absently sipped the lukewarm coffee, and then slid the cup onto the side table with a frown. It wasn't as if he'd suddenly realized Johnny wouldn't need him around much longer, but Bruce hadn't known just how much he didn't want it to be true. Johnny was his best friend; his co-conspirator; his ally, man! Johnny was...having a nightmare, apparently, by the noises coming from the bedroom.

Johnny was tossing fitfully on the dark sheets when Bruce entered the room. The mumbling and distressed noises grew louder even as he crossed to the bed. "John", Bruce leaned over, laying a hand on one thrashing arm. Johnny grimaced and pulled away, deep in the throes of dark images.

Bruce pulled a knee up onto the mattress and leaned over to reach Johnny with both hands. "Johnny", Bruce took hold of both shoulders firmly. "Johnny, wake up. It's okay, man. Wake up. Come on, now." He gave his friend a slight shake and Johnny's eyes opened suddenly.

Dark, frightening images flitted through vague dreamscapes. Despairing, Johnny fell deeper into a well of fear, pain and loss; desperately reaching for something always just out of reach. Just as he felt the cold ache of hopelessness seeping into him there was a pull from another direction.

With a sudden shock he went from dark dreams to awake and surged upright; staring into concerned brown eyes. With no thought at all Johnny threw himself into the strong arms, clutching the strong body close; feeling only the relief, the sense of safety and rightness. The warmth gradually overcame the chill left from the nightmare and the renewed calm brought renewed realization. Reluctantly, Johnny took a deep breath against the broad chest and pulled away, releasing his hold.

His eyes widened in astonishment as he was tugged back and held close. Johnny relaxed into the hold for a moment before twisting up to meet warm eyes. "Bruce", he murmured, a statement and a question at once. A slight smile and a soft, "John", were his response. Shining brown eyes drew closer and Johnny inhaled sharply as soft lips met his.  
***  
If Bruce was startled to suddenly be holding his best friend in his arms he recovered quickly. He eased down to sit on the side of the bed, pulling the shaking body more closely to him. It seemed only moments before Bruce knew Johnny had realized where he was. Johnny stiffened slightly and began pulling away.

In a split second decision, Bruce tightened his hold, drawing Johnny back. To his delight, Johnny surrendered into his arms immediately. Then a slight movement brought brilliant blue eyes up to meet his own. Bruce smiled down contentedly into the trusting face of his best friend. It seemed a natural progression in the moment to bend his head, letting his own lips meet the ones so close.

Two pairs of eyes fell shut; warm soft lips moved against one another. One long, slow kiss led into another and another.

Searching hands traveled over strong backs and shoulders, stroking down arms and up again to tangle in soft hair or curl around in a loose, comfortable embrace.

Finally Bruce drew back with a soft sigh. He let his hands slide down from the blond locks to rest at the trim waist. Johnny's eyes were searching as they met Bruce's, but he seemed content to remain as they were. Bruce was relieved that although there was some wariness in the luminous blue there was no fear or withdrawal.

"Is this...are you..." It was the most speechless Bruce had ever seen his Johnny. He smiled, leaning in. "It is. And I am."

It was Johnny's turn to grin back. "Are you the psychic now? How do you know what I'm asking?" "I don't", Bruce grinned back. "But whatever the question is I am definitely in agreement, man." They both laughed and followed with a series of soft kisses.

When they finally drew back Johnny carefully eased his leg into a different position; not unnoticed by his partner. "It's been bad lately, hasn't it." Despite the wording, it wasn't a question. "Why haven't you called me for a massage?" Suddenly unable to meet Bruce's eyes, Johnny blushed, but Bruce wasn't letting go. "Come on, man. You can tell me." Johnny gave him the sideways glance that always signaled his uneasiness. With a sigh he spilled it, "I knew I wouldn't be able to hide anything from you. Not with as personal as the therapy gets." "And?" Johnny quirked a half-smile at Bruce's prompting.

"And I've been so exhausted I haven't really felt up to it lately, anyway."

Johnny was a little alarmed as Bruce straightened abruptly. His head snapped up to meet Bruce's concerned gaze. "You're still not sleeping? What's happening?" Bruce pulled Johnny closer, tucking the blond head under his own chin. Feeling warmed by the contact as well as the obvious concern Johnny stumbled quickly over the nightmares and his continuing worry despite their talks. Without intending to words spilled out; his fear that he would one day be unable to save Bruce, that he couldn't protect him, that Bruce deserved so much more than Johnny would ever be, that Bruce wouldn't feel the same way, that he would tire of Johnny and move on to someone younger- someone whole. And then there would be nothing; not even friendship and Johnny would be left alone, again.

Bruce said nothing as the fear and doubt and self-recriminations spilled out. He simply held Johnny, listening, marveling how anyone so special, so incredible, could have so much self-doubt; and wondering, also, how long Johnny had been holding all this inside and trying to deal with it alone. Finally the emotional outpouring fell silent and Johnny waited, head bowed for the coming reaction. Bruce smiled in bemusement. The other man looked as if he were awaiting judgment. Although, the smile turned sad, perhaps Johnny felt as if he were.

For his part, Johnny felt drained, a little numb, but relieved, too, of the weight he'd been carrying. Then a hand on his cheek brought him out of his daze. Looking up, he was caught by warm chocolate eyes and a tender smile. "Man, you don't have to go through this by yourself. Didn't I tell you I'd be there with you?" Bruce grinned teasingly. "Besides, you know I can't let you out on your own. Who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into."

Johnny's short laugh may have been a bit delirious, but neither commented on it. Bruce brushed his hand against one pale cheek. They could cover all of Johnny's worries later. Right now was for the important issues. "I want this, Johnny. I want you." He spoke quietly. "I need to know if this is what you want, man." Johnny opened his mouth, but Bruce continued over him. "I need you to be sure. Because I'm not into the short term any more than you are, Johnny. If we do this it's all of the above, man, and believe me," He flashed a quick grin, "I'm more than ready to have incredible sex with my best friend, but I'm not willing to lose my best friend just to have incredible sex. You know?"

Eyes luminous, Johnny smiled back. His voice was husky. "I know. I do want this, with you." Bruce's answering smile was open. "Then that's all we need to know right now."

The embrace tightened. Soft, full lips met softly, then more passionately as the need grew. Johnny fell back onto the bed, pulling Bruce with him. Moaning, the blond thrust upward against an answering hardness. Hands pulled and tugged; clothing was dropped over the side of the bed and tossed away thoughtlessly. Heated skin pressed against heated skin and a chorus of gasps and moans drifted on the late afternoon breeze.

This first time was too rushed to be more than the culmination of enthusiastic hands and mouths on damp, feverish skin.

Shouts of love and completion rang against the walls as both collapsed, finally. Yet, even resting the hands moved, smoothing over soft locks, stroking hard muscle under silken skin. Breathy promises and whispers rose and fell as hidden, nighttime musings could now be exchanged in light of day. And finally, tangled as they were, both eased back into sleep; held, comforted, loved.

End


End file.
